The door opened, and Nan Jue raised her eyebrows in surprise, "You're earlier than I thought, but still slow enough. It's been three days, and you just realized I'm here."
"No, I knew last night."
Nan Jiaojiao walked inside, Nan Jue handed her slippers, then went to the kitchen and brought out two cups of water.
"I don't have milk tea here. If you want some, I can have someone send it over."
There was a fruit plate on the coffee table, and fruit peels were thrown in the trash bin—prepared by Nan Jue herself, pierced with toothpicks, as if she was just waiting for her to come.
Nan Jiaojiao took a longer pick, skewered a few pieces of fruit together, and leisurely ate while lying on the couch.
"No need, if someone sees me alone with you, it'll be hard to explain."
Nan Jue glared, "I'm your little uncle!"
In her mouth, it sounded just like the messy relationships outside.
